blogging about life.

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It isn’t often that we stop to consider who we are, and why we do what we do. We should though, it is a worthwhile exercise.

Personal branding is a powerful thing, it is an intangible collection of heritage, skill sets, experiences and personality. An encapsulation of your character and identity. I recently needed to figure out my own brand.

I came to understand that my personal brand is the culmination of all the years of being Richard Wright. As a professional speaker, it is all I have and all that I am. But somehow it is easy to fall into the trap of wanting to call a new business something smart, something relevant to the nature of the business.

Years ago, when the seeds were initially sown and I was considering a name for myself as a speaker, a respected businessman and start up authority cautioned me. He said that as a speaker it was important to create a brand around my own name, as I am the product.

He is right of course. My future is solely dependent on my ability to resonate with others through my words, my thoughts, and my speech. Being me.

I didn’t need much convincing.

I was very aware that a brand needs a strong identity on the internet, and that’s where I ran into some trouble. A quick Google search of ‘Richard Wright’ will reveal that there are three very prominent namesakes out there. The drummer for Pink Floyd, an African American black consciousness writer, and a UK football goalkeeper. All very famous in their own right.

To stand out, I couldn’t just be Richard Wright. Although I registered the richardwright.co.za domain easily, I was after a dotcom site. I am thinking big.

My creative director suggested a few alternatives around Richard Wright, and then sent me a text that jumped right out at me. ”I think it should be iamrichardwright” she said, “and I can get the domain.”

That was it!

The words ‘I am’ are tattooed on my right forearm. It has been a big part of my journey as Richard Wright, figuring out who I am, and it is a strong conceptual thread running through many of my presentations.

Until you have figured out who you are, until you can figure out what defines you as a human, the very essence of you, you are unlikely to feel fulfilled, nor reach your true potential as a human.

It isn’t the person you have become to satisfy the demands of your parents, colleagues, friends, greater society and your social circles, it is your true identity.

A quote that has stuck with me since my late twenties is the following, “I am, two of the most powerful words, for what you put after them defines your reality.”

I have grappled with my identity for most of my life. Never feeling comfortable nor true to the confines of the boxes I have been squashed into since my childhood.

Cancer stripped away all the facades, everything that wasn’t me. When you face death and start wrapping up your affairs, there is no longer a need nor any point to a pretence. It is the greatest chance you will get at being totally authentic. That’s one of the gifts of cancer.

Cancer was the catalyst, and the reason I started my identity forearm.

In the words of a very prominent, more mature woman in my life at the time of getting my first tattoo – Hint: I’ve known her all my life – “That’s permanent right?”

You think very carefully about any word you tattoo on your body that follows those two words ‘I am’.

It cannot be fleeting, it has to be 100 percent authentic. Some of the words have both positive and negative connotations, some are symbols, and two were written by my daughters. Collectively, it is Richard Wright. And I am Richard Wright.

I am speaking as a result of all that has happened, and all that has made me whom I am today. I have a story to tell. I am sharing my journey. I also believe firmly that I am fulfilling my purpose.

My why, has unravelled my purpose in life. That’s an incredibly exciting thing for me.

My purpose as ‘iamrichardwright’ is to assist others in unravelling their own purpose and their ‘why’. I don’t believe that you have to contract a terminal disease to arrive at that point. Happiness is an integral thread through my story and helping people to discover how to find happiness in a career, at home, in time of challenge, and even in the mundane drudgery of an average week is key for me.

I want to inspire and facilitate change, be that in a mindset, in the smallest of ideas, or through the biggest of life changes.

Creating a logo around my personal brand was a delightful journey of its own. The iamrichardwright logo is a mix of many elements.

The irregular outline of the logo represents a bicycle chainring, and not just any chainring. The second tattoo I got is of a 1970 Campagnolo Super record 52 tooth Chainring. In the middle of the chainring is a large ‘B’ for bicycle and for Bailey, my youngest daughter. I was born in 1970.

Let me explain the significance. The chainring is the round, toothed, flat piece of metal that is attached to your right pedal on a bicycle. The chain runs over the teeth, and as you pedal, the chainring pulls the chain forward and that in turn makes the back-wheel turn.

I have always had an affinity for circles. The circle of life, and the seasonal nature of life. It symbolises the self, wholeness, completion, and totality.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time throughout my life on a bicycle. It has been a big part of my journey, and the interesting thing about a chainring is that it is the exact same circle turning over and over and over again.

Each revolution costing work and energy, but each time it is turned you find yourself in a new place. Never the same. Constant change. The inevitable part of life.

The font I have chosen is similar to that used on my baptism certificate back in 1970, as well a hospital certificate. It resonates. Blue is Mackinnon’s favourite colour, and Bailey’s is purple.

I love old things, and the retro vibe. Especially relevant is the fact that the seventies are back, and this is my time to take advantage of all that has happened since then. Just like the seventies, I too am back. As the truest version of me yet. The retro microphone resonates with me, and it’s the only tactile tool in my toolbox.

Finally, the symbol we use to terminate a sentence, to signify the end, is a full stop. I am a terminal human although I have survived two terminal cancers. The logo as a whole represents my full stop. The inevitable end. My personal brand is everything I am, and how I choose to spend my working hours as I journey to that end.

My brand is me and a microphone. I am raw, and authentic. Real, and vulnerable, yet strong.

I couldn’t be the drummer, the writer, nor the goalkeeper…

I have a unique identity…

Iamrichardwright

Want to know how you can change your life?

Book me, and allow me to help you to unravel your very own personal brand.

I went to watch Blue Man Group this week and thought that it was absolutely bloody brilliant. An explosion of the senses. It was a smart, funny, and wildly entertaining show combining various genres of music and art.

A friend of mine went last night and walked out after only 20 minutes…

Paraphrased, ‘It was noise and banging and not funny at all.’

There was a conversation I had this week with another friend. ‘Does prayer work if the person you are praying for doesn’t believe what you do?’

My friends and I share many common interests and compatible perceptions. We can engage on different levels. Yet, we vastly disagree on certain things.

Has this created a wedge in our friendship? Has difference created an elephant? Something that we cannot ever talk about?

On the contrary. I’d rather engage with somebody who has differing views than those who all think the same way and like the same things. Yes, of course the commonality is fabulous and fun, and sharing is caring after all.

But my thinking will never be challenged if I remain within the confines of my tribe. I cannot broaden my view on various interests and topics. I will struggle to grow and evolve into the person I wish to become. The Richard in five years from now.

I am the first to admit that I can be sensitive at times when some of my ideologies are tested and challenged, defensive even. It isn’t something that I’m proud of. I grew up needing to be right, the undesirable product of deep seated insecurities.

It made me critical, judgmental, and focused on the offensive. It made me dogmatic and stubborn.

For a number of years, I have been consciously working at changing that, expanding my interactions to include those who differ vastly from me on pretty much everything, and have been trying hard to listen more. It is a process.

Additionally, I have made many big mistakes over the past ten years that have exposed weaknesses within. Facing the ramifications of these mistakes has forced me to deal with the concept of being human, fallible, and downright flawed. A wonderful foundation upon which to explore and build a new sense of self…

One that accepts, celebrates, and marvels at differences.

Seek out those who are different to you, for they will become your teacher if only you will let them.

Proviso; if you ask to be challenged or convinced around an idea or concept, but remain dogmatic, it doesn’t count.

I woke in a sweat, not sure why. Peering blurrily through one eye I checked the time on my phone, 02:34. As I rolled over, hoping to quickly fall asleep again, I heard the intruder.

The high pitched whine could mean only one thing, I was under attack by the world’s most deadly predator.

I pulled the duvet up over my body until only my head remained exposed to the danger. Lying motionless on my side, my breathing slowed and I listened intently. A bead of sweat ran from my armpit and over my chest as I waited for the impending assault – nervousness, or the heat of duvet in the muggy Joburg night, I wasn’t sure which.

I was well aware that the intruder that had dared to encroach the sanctity of my bedroom is responsible for over 725 000 human deaths every year, Bill Gates said so. A massive 724 990 deaths more than the monstrous great white shark. They kill more people in four minutes than sharks kill in a year.

Had four minutes gone by?

The whine grew louder as the creature flew stealthily closer and closer towards the side of my face. Diving in for an exploratory foray of my naked, juicy, blood filled flesh.

The noise from the female beast stopped. A dreadful silence. I felt a feather light touch on my cheek.

With lightning speed my hand whipped out from under the duvet, delivering a blinding slap to my face. I ignored the stinging pain and a twitching eye as I slid my hand over my cheek, desperately hoping to feel a tiny flattened body and an accompanying slimy trail of blood.

An end to the dramatic encounter.

But alas, I felt nothing.

By now I was wide awake, all my senses fully alert, a finely tuned 46 year old insect killer with a throbbing face. Blood coursing through my body, the blood she was after.

I knew that it was only a matter of time before the merciless predator regrouped for another violent attack.

But I wasn’t prepared for what I heard next. Craning my head away from the pillow to make quite sure, I clearly heard two whining sounds. The little monster had called for backup. Women always stick together.

Abandoning all thought of sleep I realised that I was going to have to take the attack to the enemy.

I switched on the bedside light, and reached for my thick, black rimmed glasses, I was prepared to fight one mosquito whilst half blind, but not two.

Standing on the bed I reached for my weapon; a polyester, hollow fiber blend pillow.

Gripping the pillow with both hands I stood poised for action in my watermelon sleep shorts.

By now I stood alone, deserted by my cowardly cats. The same cats who had engaged in a ‘sharp claw on aging skin’ contest for duvet supremacy earlier that night. They had won, as usual.

But now they had slunk off into a dark corner of the bedroom, meowing with fear or laughter, I’m not certain which.

As the tiny but deadly predators circled I watched, my eyes attuned to the slightest movement,waiting for one of them to land on a surface. Any surface would do. Except the bedside lamp. Previous battle disasters had taught me that.

Two whines became one. I searched the walls, the cornices, and finally saw nature’s most deadly animal self-confidently poised for attack, upside-down on the ceiling.

Without hesitation I swung the pillow with all the speed and force I could muster. Only to watch as the ensuing wind from my seemingly deadly blow brushed the cunning insect away.

Minutes passed. Silence. And then a more distant drone. Silence again.

The prick to my calf came without warning.

I whirled around, slapping simultaneously at my leg, one silky smooth, beautiful human movement. I was convinced I had been successful. Practically celebrating.

As the blood oozed out of my leg at approximately one litre per 236 days, I searched the duvet frantically for a corpse. I couldn’t find one.

Failure is not my middle name.

It was time to step up the intensity of my attack. I strode purposely down the dark passage to the kitchen, groping in the dark for the light switch.

As my toes felt beneath them a cold, soft object on the floor, I jumped sideways, letting out an inadvertent shout as my spine shuddered.

Curse the damn cats!

A dead, tail-less, lizard-gift lay on the tiles. Thoughtfully left there by either Bart or Bella for me to find as proof of their hunting prowess. Suffering severe sense of humour failure, and growling through gritted teeth I marched back to the bedroom battle scene, armed with weapons of mass insect destruction to end my own hunt.

I was no longer to be trifled with.

I laid out my arsenal of vastly superior firepower on the bedside table.

Then I plugged the Raid insect repellent into the socket beside my bed. Sprayed every millimetre of my exposed skin with Peaceful Sleep, and standing on the bed again, I covered the room in a thick cloud of Doom.

Is that a new thought right there? “Most definitely not” I hear you say, “nothing new Rich.” What if I told you that if you Googled (is that even a word?) the exact title above, Google will respond in 0,12 seconds with 491 000 000 entries, but not one single one of them have that precise sequence of words, not one!

But does that mean that particular thought process has never been thought? Of course not. The question has been debated since the beginning of time by some pretty smart dudes, and a little while back one of them said in both French and Latin (because he was that smart), “I think, therefore I am”.

Descartes argued that if all else were to be taken away, we would still exist because we think. But have you ever had a thought that not a single other soul on this planet has not already had? The converse of Descartes thinking is that if we cease to think, then we cease to exist. We are thinking all the time, but what are we thinking, and are any of those thoughts new?

What then are new thoughts?
I asked twitter if all the thoughts have been thought, and a friend, Mike, replied to say that, “a new thought gets rewarded with a Nobel prize”. In other words, only REALLY smart people get to think new thoughts. An interesting take I will admit. My retort was that many of the recent Nobel winners have taken an existing thought process and have refined it. That’s not new is it? Perhaps the following quote will substantiate that thought process.

“All intelligent thoughts have already been thought; what is necessary is only to try to think them again.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Was Johann onto something?

A distinction I’d like to interrogate is the difference between ‘new’ and ‘unique’. Try this; wait for a tweet from a very popular personality on twitter, and as soon as the tweet appears, consider your thoughts and reply to the tweet. I pretty much guarantee that within seconds (and some before yours even) another tweet will appear in reply with the same expressed thought as yours, from somebody else somewhere else in the world. It could practically speaking even be your next door neighbour.

Nonetheless, that thought was new for you, it was YOURS. What it wasn’t however is unique to you. Should that realization make us despondent? I certainly don’t want to think of myself as number seven billion and one, the ‘inadequate thought failure’ who thinks the same as everybody else.

We are taught from a very early age to think, but 92% of us (taken from Richard’s Irrefutable Journal of Statistics) are taught to think in exactly the same way as everybody else. In fact, we are rewarded for our ability to think the same way, and in a prescribed manner, and what’s worse is that we are told that in doing so we are learning how to think.

That’s like forcing a kid to colour in the lines. While indisputably there is some truth there, it unfortunately puts us into a ‘thinking box’. Most of us automatically find comfort in the confines of the box and realize that we are regularly chastised for peeking out to express a different way of thinking. And therefore we unwittingly proceed through life as a thought thief, reading articles and believing all that is written there, listening to opinion and adopting it as our own because it sounds good.

The thoughts we think are shared. My parents, my teachers and my lecturers all did an extremely good job of this. So much so in fact, that it has taken me 42 years to try to think differently.

Those are all extraordinarily successful high school drop-outs (you will notice that it’s a new list). In fact the creator of blogging, Evan Williams, is one of a much older list. Essentially these people failed college thinking, or decided they were comfortable thinking their own way, so they dropped out. Interesting to note that 80% of these people have come up with brandnew ideas and concepts. So much for no new intelligent thought… At this point I pat myself on the back for not finishing either of the degrees I started, maybe too soon though, because you might have noticed that my name is missing from the above mentioned list.

And here is another thought to chew on: Imagine if I had given you the following list of words before February the 14th this year, and had asked you to think of a logical sequence. What would you have thought?

Only 44 words, but the possible sequences are literally in the millions. How many people on this planet would have picked the possible sequence, or thought process, that played out in reality? The point being that we are all conditioned by prior knowledge, and the only way we can think new thoughts is either to build on what we already know, and develop those thoughts, or we need to free ourselves of previous thinking.

Exactly what our learned behaviour has taught us not to do. Based on our previous thinking and the acceptance of what we know, the chances that any of us would have developed even the most important thread in the Pistorius sequence correct are remote.

Additionally, It tells us that ‘new’ is happening every day. Hollywood script writers are paid big money for new scripts, have you seen a movie that bears the slightest resemblance to the sad events that played out that week?

My English teacher taught me to stick to the approximately 600 words in the Oxford Dictionary that were available to me at that time. Well, what about the new words that are added each year? Not even the dictionary is exempt from the creativity of new thinkers. Latest additions include ‘vajazzle’ (please don’t ask me) ‘OMG’ (which naturally follows the previous word), ‘tweetable’, touchless’, and ‘dumbphone’. So new are these words in fact that my spell check is screaming at me as I type. New is happening all the time, it’s a continuous process. You don’t have to be super smart to have a new thought like ‘OMG’ do you? Likewise you don’t necessarily have to be super smart to think new thoughts in many fields.

Richard Graham! that is NOT a word!

I am not intelligent enough to know all the ramifications of these questions– see mom and dad, I learned well, I know not to think I might be more intelligent than I am told I am – but what I do know is that the only way to develop thinking is by doing it. And you need to believe that you don’t have to be hyper intelligent to think new thoughts

I refuse to be fenced into somebody else’s thought patterns any longer, because I know that I am capable of cognitively changing my own thought patterns. I believe that the more you challenge your own way of thinking, the more you engage with others, the greater your skill at taking a step back and looking objectively at what you have always thought – the greater the chances that you will think new thoughts.

And while those thoughts might not be unique, they are new for you, and that is how the process starts. Who knows where that exploration of your thinking will take you? Maybe that’s what my teachers were trying to tell me? Who knew, I thought it was all about regurgitation…

Start thinking more today, start challenging your thoughts, because not all the thoughts have been thunk. [Am I allowed to do that mom? Write words that aren’t in the dictionary? Is that OK? It is? Cool beans…I have a new word. Can I go and ride my bike now? ]